"Finally... home."
Cold sweat ran down Jin's brow as he dragged the last chunk of that monstrous metal into the yard, muscles burning from the effort. The thing wasn't just heavy—it was like hauling a mountain across the damn island.
The yard was empty.
"Of course they're not around... it's training hours at the dojo," Jin muttered, wiping his hands and stretching his aching back.
Behind him, Kuma waddled through the gate, still every bit the towering beast, though no longer clumsy. "Boss, you really went all in for this lump of iron... I'll get you the best herbs I can find. I'll get strong, I swear it. I wanna unlock Armament Haki soon!"
Jin glanced back at the big bastard and grinned. "You'd better. If you don't, I'm making you pull the boat across the sea by your teeth."
Kuma scratched the back of his massive head sheepishly. "I'll do my best, boss!"
Six months passed like a warm breeze.
During that time, Jin rarely left the village. Almost every day, he sat cross-legged under the sun, sharpening not only his blade and body, but his senses. His Observation Haki was always tuned to one thing—Kuina.
He wouldn't allow that tragedy to repeat. Not this time.
He watched over her from afar. The incident with the whetstone—the one she loved in canon—never happened. He made sure of it.
Meanwhile, in the forge, the massive chunk of black iron was slowly shaved down. From a monstrous 3.5-meter hunk to just under 1.3 meters, the raw metal was gradually refined, layer by layer. Jin hadn't expected it to be so damned difficult.
No smelting furnace. No modern tools. Just muscle, fire, and sheer will.
And herbs.
Jin spent his evenings concocting mixtures—tonics and balms using the plants Kuma collected. He wasn't making miracle pills, but the stuff worked. Strengthened bones. Accelerated recovery. Sharpened reflexes.
Kuma's beastly body had already started mutating. The once-fluffy bear now looked like he could body slam a Sea King.
Every week, Kuina received a specialized medicinal bath, enhancing her muscles and endurance. Even Zoro got a share, though Jin didn't tell him. He just slipped the tonics into the meat.
Jin didn't grind his body the way others did. No reckless overtraining. No suicidal regimens. His approach was measured, mercilessly efficient. Instead of draining his life force, he reinforced it.
"I'm not here to burn out like a bright flame. I'm here to last," he'd mutter under his breath while hammering metal in the dead of night.
When he wasn't training or forging, he'd tease Kuina, toss tasks at Kuma, or silently watch Zoro bash his head against new techniques.
Only one thing gnawed at his heart.
She wasn't here.
Makino.
The warm, gentle smile that haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Some might say warriors shouldn't cling to feelings like that. That love makes you soft.
Jin disagreed.
"Only men with something to protect survive the longest," he'd say, eyes dark, smirk bitter. "Emotionless warriors die faster. You stop fighting when you've got nothing worth bleeding for."
"Cold Steel Bastard, you finally crawled out of the forge?" Kuina's voice rang out across the yard.
She stopped mid-swing, resting her bamboo blade on her shoulder, sweat running down her neck. Her tone was casual, but her eyes scanned him with quiet concern.
"Six months of hammering. I can finally say the impurities are gone. Fuck, that was a pain in the ass." Jin dropped into a chair with a groan, wiping his face with a cloth. "They say there are three great sufferings in life—tempering steel, sailing the seas, and grinding soybeans. I've done two now."
"You forgot being stupid enough to do it all yourself," Kuina teased, smug. "No one told you to act like a blacksmith monk."
"Yeah? I was gonna make you a sword too, but if you're gonna sass me, I'll just keep the good metal for myself."
"What?! I get one too?!"
Jin's lips curved. Got her.
Kuina lit up like a summer firefly, her usually stoic face breaking into excitement. "You're serious?"
He nodded. "Go see your dad. Talk about the size, style, and weight. I'll need a blueprint in a week."
Kuina did a quick mental count. "One week? Should be enough. Oh! But if it's that metal... won't the sword be heavy?"
"Fifteen pounds minimum," Jin warned. "This ain't your average alloy."
Kuina rolled her shoulders with confidence. "I can handle up to twenty, no problem. I've been training for this."
"Good. Then you're ready."
He glanced toward the horizon. The sky was streaked with crimson, sun dipping low.
"It's almost time. I should leave soon."
Kuina's face stiffened.
"You're thinking of Makino again."
"Yeah," Jin said quietly. "Just like when I left you behind... I kept thinking of you too."
That caught her off-guard.
She turned, face flushed, muttering, "I'm going home."
As she darted away, Jin leaned back and watched the clouds shift overhead.
He didn't regret being honest.
Kuina was still young. Her heart was mostly consumed by the blade—eighty percent sword, maybe twenty percent feelings. And that was fine. It was enough. For now.
Jin's eyes flicked toward the dojo at the top of the hill.
"It's time to give Koshiro an answer."
He stood, wiping soot from his palms, and headed toward his final conversation before setting sail.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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